


your magnetic field's being a little too strong

by xylomylo



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/F, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 14:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12961488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylomylo/pseuds/xylomylo
Summary: you'd think that being new york's youngest and finest cardiothoracic surgeon would mean something. other than the fame and money, of course.





	your magnetic field's being a little too strong

**Author's Note:**

> this was a result of watching too many shows at once. also, new writing style. do shorter sentences work better?
> 
> title from taylor swift's gorgeous. you're gorgeous.

there's a loud crash, and sana jumps. drops her highlighter and blinks. it's sometime in the early morning (she'd lost track of time many pages ago), and she's not exactly sure she wasn't hallucinating. because last she checked she was the only one at home. alone. in all her perfectly lonesome glory. 

 

could it be jihyo? or nayeon? but both girls had a key, and were supposed to be on a date tonight. furthermore, why would someone with a key try to sneak in from the bedroom?

 

crap.

 

the bedroom.

 

she should have paid more for a higher floor. there was no point in saving up anyway (there was no one to spend it on).

 

this is it. karma has come full circle right to her doorstep. for all the people she couldn't save. for all the patients she'd left bleeding out on the OR table. for every failed surgery, every mistake made. this is how it ends. well, at least she'd get to die while reading up on the latest open heart surgery.

 

she picks up the highlighter. questionable weapon of choice, but sana isn't one for logical thinking in situations like these. she pads to the bedroom, trying to be quiet - and of course it doesn't happen. the floorboard squeaks. sana sighs. at this point she might as well reveal herself. embrace death, she thinks. short and sweet. 

 

one thousand, two thousand, _three -_

the lights turn on, and sana screams.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

being a doctor meant that you had to be focused, twenty-four seven. calm, steady hands, good decision making skills. you'd think that being new york's youngest and finest cardiothoracic surgeon would mean something. other than the fame and money, of course. 

 

sana stares. after screaming in classic minatozaki fashion. at things that, well, are unusual. like the girl currently bleeding out on her bedroom carpet. who is strangely, decked out in black latex. 

 

"i'm not going to hurt you," the girl huffs weakly. makes a move to stand, and grimaces when her legs give out.

 

sana blinks, again. hits the reset button on her brain, and her instincts kick in - 

 

the highlighter is forgotten. 

 

"i'm sana. i'm a doctor," she says, kneeling beside the girl. accesses her. there are several cuts along her arms, but none as nasty as the gash along her abdomen. "i'll just go grab some stuff and be right back, okay?" 

 

she doesn't wait for a response. doesn't get one either, other than the heavy breathing. rushes for her untouched medical supplies at her bedside table - the first set of sutures she'd gotten as a welcoming gift from the hospital many years ago. sentimental value aside, sana sincerely hopes that the needle is sterile.

 

"hey, stay with me," she prods the gash. latex girl curses, hands shooting up to slap hers away.

 

"what the hell? it hurts!" 

 

"talk to me. i don't have morphine, so you're gonna have to bear with it," sana wipes the blood away. the gash on her abdomen doesn't look too deep. probably no internal bleeding, she thinks. she doesn't have the luxury of ordering a ct scan anyway. 

 

"why didn't you go to a hospital?" she asks. her hands are on autopilot. muscle memory. attaches the thread to the needle. she checks the girl for a steady pulse, and sinks the needle in without warning. 

 

latex girl curses again. in japanese. kansai dialect. sana raises her eyebrows.

 

"you're from kansai?" she switches to japanese. its been awhile since she'd met anyone from her hometown. or from japan. her tongue is rigid and the words don't flow.

 

latex girl laughs, and then winces. sana pouts in return.

 

"don't make fun of my japanese, it's been long." she pulls the thread with a little more force than necessary. giggles when latex girl hisses in pain.

 

"okay okay, just be gentle, will you?" the girl closes her eyes. grits her teeth and sana doesn't miss the latex eye mask crumpled in her fists.

 

"why didn't you go to a hospital?" she repeats, switching back to english. "at least they have morphine." she finishes the last suture. ties a surgical knot. "i'm sure the nurses won't scream at you for breaking into their apartment."

 

latex girl doesn't answer. her entire body tenses, and sana thinks she might be overstepping. but she never backs away from a fight. doctors are known to be perspective. sana is a doctor, and damn right she's perspective. observant, even. and she's already come to her own conclusions about latex girl. all that's left is to hear her say it.

 

"aren't you a little rude?" she pushes. cuts the thread. admires her handiwork. "you break into my apartment, bleed on my carpet, and i stitch you up." her fingers trace the edges of the sutures. slowly. the muscles tighten. "don't you think i deserve some answers?" 

 

it's the classic guilt trip. always works. she'd watch nayeon do it all the time during their residency, to dig out the truth from patients. batting eyelashes, comforting strokes to the skin, lulling them into security.

 

"i - i can't. i just can't." 

 

sana's hands are pushed away with finality. latex girl sits up, slowly. manages to stand up, and holds the bedroom wall for good measure. 

 

"thank you for helping me." latex girl smiles through the pain. it's sincere and warm and her brown eyes meets sana's own. her breath catches. "i'm sorry about the carpet, though." 

 

the guilt trip is no longer a guarantee. 

 

"can i at least - get a name?" sana's not sure where all of this is coming from. can't even begin to comprehend why she would be interested in the stupid girl who broke into her apartment and ruined her carpet. all it did was distract her. and made her question the safety of her apartment. stupid.

 

other than the fact that she's... cute. and has really pretty eyes. but those eyes remind sana of a world that she used to believe in - with so much hope and promise. and it didn't deliver.

 

but maybe it would. this time.

 

"momo." 

 

it should.

 

"take care of yourself, momo." sana ends up saying. the name rolls off her tongue in an ease that takes her by surprise. momo. she remembers the eye mask, the latex, then on impulse: 

 

"you can drop by. anytime. uh, in case you need some help."

 

momo smiles. it's blinding, and sana decides she'll do whatever she can do see it again.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

"minatozaki."

 

jihyo approaches, coffee and newspaper in hand. the nurses part like the red sea, because it's what jihyo does - at least in the hospital. as chief of surgery, she supposes there's a certain reputation to uphold: an aura, nayeon calls it. sana just thinks it's funny.

 

"hey."

 

they settle into a comfortable silence, staring at the OR board. she's fifteen hours in on a forty-eight hour shift, and sana is scheduled for a valve transplant in about an hour. there's an awake brain surgery going down in OR 1, spearheaded by nayeon, and she wonders if she should scrub in. that's definitely not something you get to see often.

 

"did you hear? there was another robbery last night," jihyo says. "a few blocks away from where we live." blows on her coffee. sana shakes her head.

 

"how bad?" she asks. manhattan's crime rate has been on the rise, and sana can't help but be worried. the hospital has also seen more crime related injuries (not that she's complaining), and everyone's a little... jittery. sana hates jittery.

 

jihyo hands her the paper. "not that bad. a watch shop, owned by an old lady. same block as the place we'd get bagels from?" sana nods. the three of them would go there every morning during their internship, back when they were just trying to make something out of themselves. not that they still aren't.

 

"two men carrying knives, ew. apparently it was reported that an unknown figure came in from nowhere and saved the day," she continues. sana scans the headlines.

 

"vigilante?" sana's eyes widen. speed reads the article. statements from eye witnesses vary - from a demon raised from hell, to a god-send vigilante fighting off the robbers. all in all, a deus ex machina. in this economy? unbelievable.

 

jihyo laughs. "yeah, i think so." points at a grainy photo of the vigilante in question. "is that latex?"

 

sana squints. "yeah, superheroes usually do latex." the blurry silhouette looks strangely familiar. it's as though she's seen it before.

 

oh. black latex. knife wounds. could it be...?

 

"- na, sana!" jihyo waves a hand in front of her, and she snaps out of it. it's her pager. both their's, going off at the same time. from OR 1. 

 

"well, lets hope this vigilante works better than the police," sana chirps, dragging jihyo along with her. snatches the remaining coffee out of jihyo's hand and dumps it on a passing intern. nothing like an awake brain surgery to wake you up (surgeries work way better than caffeine anyway).

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

it's her off day. the one day of the week she gets to sleep in, with no one screaming for her, hounding her, blowing up her pager. sundays are her favourite days, because she gets to feel like a normal person. as much as a normal person does.

 

many sundays, in fact. but not this sunday.

 

"sana."

 

there's a finger prodding at her cheek. multiple times. she'd just closed her eyes two seconds ago, for fuck's sake. after a particularly gruelling shift. there was a mass shooting two blocks away from the hospital, and she's not sure she'll ever get used to it. the amount of death. the fragility of human life.

 

"s-sana?"

 

the prodding has moved to her arm. it isn't stopping. she's about to give the person a piece of her mind. because you don't wake people up by prodding the shit out of them. period. she rolls over in bed, cracks an eye open. tries her best to blink away the sleep. why can't she ever be left alone on her off day? 

 

it's latex girl. momo, with a bruised eye. all traces of sleep vanish, and she jumps out of bed, forgetting that she's barely dressed. at least momo has the decency to flush red and look away. 

 

"you. sit. uh, wait here."

 

she nearly trips on her way to get supplies. supplies, which now include morphine and sutures. and gauze and bandages. which she most definitely did not steal from the hospital.

 

she most definitely did not stock her house up just in case, _in case_ a certain latex girl takes her up on her offer. 

 

sana slips on her glasses. examines the wound on momo's head. it's just a cut above her left eye, and of course, the bruised eye. 

 

"busy night?" she asks. gets to work. gives momo the cold compress to hold onto while she stitches the small cut. if anything, she's just thankful it isn't as deep as the gash on her abdomen. 

 

"yeah," momo says, closing her eyes. opens it again to meet sana's, and looks away. "uh, aren't you gonna get dressed?"

 

sana halts. gets a good look at momo. bursts into a fit of giggles. "you're cute. and no, because today's my off day in a _really_ long time and i would really, really like to lounge around my own bedroom. in my sleep shirt. any more questions?"

 

momo gulps. then settles for closing her eyes, and sana wants to laugh at how adorable this girl is. how could someone this soft be fighting crime? also, with terrible armour. latex is a terrible, terrible choice.

 

"can't you get better armour?" she says, in between sutures. "carbon fibre, maybe. a headpiece? it's better than leaving your head exposed."

 

sana feels momo freeze up. settles for observing while suturing. places her bets on whether the girl in question would make a run for it -

 

"i've tried," momo sighs. loudly. visibly relaxes. "i've a friend who makes them, and he's out of town for awhile. these are actually my older suits, the one i usually use was uh, ruined pretty badly."

 

she nods. the small cut is done up pretty quickly. sana gives the sutures a final tap. it seems as though they've come to a mutual understanding without actually talking about it. you know. the elephant in the room. a nice change from the suffocating air. 

 

"was that you? the robbery, few blocks away from here?" she moves to dispose of her gloves. flops back onto bed and laughs. "people are talking. vigilante. god-send. angel sent from heaven. have you read the articles?" 

 

momo grins proudly. "yeah, just doing my job." her good eye crinkles, and sana just smiles. there is a good chance her heart is beating faster than usual, but she's not going to think about it. there is also a chance her face might be burning up.

 

"any chance you'll dry clean the carpet for me?" sana ends up saying. hugs her pillow. thankfully her voice doesn't give out - because momo is still smiling at her, and for the love of god, how does she still manage to look cute with a cold compress on her face?

 

"sure thing, princess."

 

at this point sana's sure her face is on the verge of exploding. anytime. soon. she's also sure her eyeballs are quivering. and hates it. hates how this stupid vigilante girl comes into her room with her stupid injuries, and her stupid cute smile and words that make her feel like a twelve year old schoolgirl with a stupid crush. 

 

"now that you're all done, i'm going back to sleep, and you're not stopping me." sana buries herself under the covers once again, hiding her red face and closes her eyes. takes deep breaths. "you can see yourself out."

 

the lack of sleep is getting to her when she feels herself floating. in her bed. her eyelids grow heavy with every second that passes.

 

it's silent for awhile. sana feels her breaths start to even, and then there's a rustle of sheets. momo's probably making a move to leave, but suddenly there's a press of lips at the top of her head. soft and fleeting. it disappears as quickly as it comes, and sana thinks she might be hallucinating again -

 

"goodnight, sana-chan."

 

the words are whispered so quietly in japanese it settles into her like stardust. dissolves her vices and silences her demons. sana feels strangely reassured, blanketed in warmth she hasn't felt in a long time. warmth that makes her toes tingle and remind her of hope.

 

it's a nice change.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

mondays are the worst, sana decides. especially with two hours of sleep. because of her house mate's rampant sex life. and a terrible hangover. and also waking up to find out that the bathroom sink broke.

 

"coffee?" nayeon greets, shit eating grin full on display as she hands sana a mug. her fingers twitch.  she has half a mind to dump the coffee on nayeon.

 

"you're getting me a new sink," sana deadpans. "marble top, nothing less." doesn't even bat an eyelash at the hickeys littering nayeon's neck - she'd stopped wishing for something to bleach her eyes out with a long time ago.

 

"me? why not her?" nayeon points to jihyo, who appears to be passed out on the kitchen floor. sana's stomach churns at the matching hickeys on her neck. gross. "i bought you new dining chairs."

 

"whatever it was, i'm pretty sure it was your fault." she sighs. "get the damn sink, nayeon. or i'm kicking you out."

 

nayeon visibly sulks, muttering under her breath. sana loves her friends, but their sex life has proven to be a huge pain in the ass. frankly speaking, there was no reason for them to live together. at all. jihyo's medical royalty, which meant that her family was rich - and nayeon, well, was the rightful heir to her father's law firm.

 

then there's sana, who worked her ass off to get a scholarship.

 

thing is, both of them could easily afford their own apartment, but instead chose to live with her. _it gets lonely,_ jihyo once told her. a part of her always wondered where she would be if they hadn't formed an unofficial trio since med school. stanford, where the competition was tough as hell.

 

as much as them being a pain in the ass, sana knows she's eternally grateful. 

 

"your girlfriend stopped by last night," jihyo says, sitting up suddenly. sana jumps. maybe three feet into the air. swallows the curse words at the tip of her tongue because _it's jihyo._

"jesus, babe." nayeon's coffee is down her shirt. if sana wasn't busy trying to get her shit together she'd be dying laughing. karma's such a bitch. "weren't you sleeping?"

 

jihyo eyes her blearily. "sana's girlfriend stopped by last night!" squints at sana. "sana. has a girlfriend." she cackles.

 

she rolls her eyes. it's a wonder how she hasn't had an aneurysm. yet.

 

"what girlfriend?"

 

nayeon's eyes light up with a glint sana's not sure she likes. "right. something about bringing your carpet to the dry cleaners?"

 

sana chokes on her coffee.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

"you're so cute, sana-chan," momo whispers, while they're in her bed. it tickles her ear and sana's sure she's blushing. all the way down to her neck. pushes momo away half-heartedly.

 

it's way past her bedtime, but sana can't find a reason to go to sleep when momo's here. the other girl had stopped by after another successful stint, which was a regular occurrence these days. they'd talk about everything, nothing, and sana had chalked it up to her being lonely (nayeon and jihyo had left for a short trip to visit nayeon's parents) because there was no way she was actually befriending the vigilante of new york city. who, so happens to have shared her bed in more than one occasion.

 

"why'd you do what you do?" sana asks.

 

getting to know momo was difficult. the other girl was guarded. barely talked about her past, and whenever she'd tried to ask questions, momo would always deflect. she'd expected the same reaction today - with momo looking away instantly, and had decided to drop it when she'd found herself with a faceful of momo's hair. that smelt like strawberries.

 

"i - i just. felt like i had to help, you know?" momo mumbles into her shoulder, and honestly, no one gets it better than sana. "i have... powers. it should be put to good use, right?"

 

sana understands, of course. it was the exact same reason why she'd decided to become a doctor. to help people. easy as that. but her heart breaks a little because the inclination to always help others usually stems from self-inadequacy, and she knows this from experience. the need to help others simply because there was no one to help you when you needed it. and it hurts to know the same thing had happened to momo. 

 

she settles for stroking momo's head softly. "i know," sana whispers, pressing kisses into the other girl's hair. then pulls away, looking at momo. there are tears welled up in momo's eyes, and sana thinks it makes her look so beautiful she's not sure momo's even real. 

 

"i know," sana repeats, before kissing her softly. 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

it takes sana an entire minute to realise the sofa is vibrating. and no, it's not because someone left a vibrator on it. she stares in disbelief as the coffee table shakes, research papers moving of their own accord.

 

oh god.

 

she digs around for the tv remote. eyes the overhead lamp cautiously. of all days, she's alone. off-duty, in fact. jihyo said something about the board's new OR quota for doctors, to seemingly "improve" their welfare, and forcibly kicked her out. even gave her two days off. what a joke. it's not like she has a life outside the hospital anyway. 

 

the sofa stops moving. the table, too. sana lets out a breath. flips to the news channel. it's something about an earthquake, 4.8 on the richter scale. in nashville. aftershocks felt all the way through new york city. no deaths reported so far, but terrible, terrible infrastructure damage.

 

there's a live telecast of the injured, but why the hell hasn't help arrived?

 

as if on cue, the camera zooms in on a flying... person? landing in the middle of some rubble. mask on, black suit - no longer latex. sana laughs at how ridiculous the other girl looks. there are loud cheers, for the vigilante of new york city - once again appearing to help citizens at a faster and more efficient rate than the nypd themselves.

 

she's already appeared in so many news articles, sightings, that journalists from all over are dying to get the latest scoop. to find out her identity. it's no surprise the nypd has called her out - claiming that such an unidentified source of power was threatening to the people of new york.

 

which was of course, met with violent protests - because they see her as a national hero. saviour. protector of new york city. saving lives where the nypd failed to do so.

 

momo's lifting up rubble, clearing the way for people to escape. pushing away overturned cars, fallen signboards, and pointing them to safety.  it's noble, and endearing, how she puts the lives of many others way before hers, and does her part to help others as much as she can. 

 

but then the camera shakes, and there's screams because _oh my god it's not over_. the live telecast becomes grainy, full of static, and the last thing sana sees is momo falling as the ground gives out, before the reporter on site passes the baton back to the news anchor. 

 

oh god.

 

her phone chimes with messages from nayeon and jihyo, both who were safe at the hospital. sana sighs in relief, checks in with them before sending a quick prayer of thanks.

 

now there's only momo left to worry about. 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

nothing, sana thinks, could have prepared her for this. sure, her years of being a surgeon might have hardened her a little, with respect to the volatility of life - the only variable in life that was out of control, and unpredictable at best.

 

this, being momo lying unconscious on her study table.

 

the girl had used her remaining strength to burst through her bedroom window, and sana hated to admit the fact that she _knew_ this was going to happen. knew momo was going to show up injured, because there was no way anyone could have gotten out, of being buried by a falling building, uninjured.

 

"sana," she had croaked. then stumbled right into sana's waiting arms, blood from her head injury soaking into sana's shirt. momo had never sounded so weak, and sana had about five seconds to process everything before the other girl started seizing in her arms. and then, collapsed.

 

never had she had to operate on someone she knew. or worse, grown emotionally attached to. surgeons don't operate on people they're related to, unless there was no other way. there was the time nayeon had to operate on her aunt simply because the other neurosurgeon wasn't in town, and the aftermath was just... messy. 

 

but she has to. right now. there wasn't enough time even if she could get to the hospital - momo's left pupil had already blown, and if she didn't do anything the girl was surely going to die. on her study table. fuck.

 

sana takes a deep breath. swallows. cuts what's remaining of momo's suit. there might be broken ribs, but nothing as severe as the open head trauma. cleans up the wound to get a better look. she's guessing hemorrhaging at the temporal lobe, because of the location of the wound, but there was no way to be sure. all she had were her instincts. and maybe passable knowledge of craniotomies (there was a reason why she'd chosen to specialise in cardiothoracics instead). 

 

she calls nayeon. just in case, you know. puts her on speaker. prays that the other girl isn't in surgery, because judging by the weakening pulse momo doesn't have time to spare. and despite her being such a pain in the ass, nayeon is the best, best damn neurosurgeon sana knows.

 

"hello? hey - "

 

"nayeon." sana doesn't recognise her own voice. "talk me through a craniotomy. i promise i'll explain later -"

 

" - jihyo asks - _what?_ where are you - "

"quick, i don't have much time!" she snaps, effectively silencing the other girl. "there's a girl, and she - okay. open head trauma. seized, left pupil blown, weak pulse. i think i have to do a craniotomy." the gravity of the situation sinks into her, and she feels her hands start to shake. this is happening.

 

she thinks nayeon hears the tremor in her voice, because the other girl steps up. there's some rustling in the background, and then:

 

"you're going to do everything _exactly_ as i say, do you understand?" 

 

"okay." she says, with as much conviction as she can. it's go time.

 

sana puts on her gloves. cleans the surgical drill that just so happens to be in the kit she stole from the hospital. if she survives this, she's going to make sure to have her own set of surgical instruments at home. just in case.

 

"place three fingers above the ear," nayeon says. "and another two across. that's where you're gonna have to drill, after making a two inch incision. not too deep."

 

"okay, i'm cutting." sana hates head surgeries. everything has to be done after drilling into the skull, and the shrill sound of it always gets on her nerves. "there's some blood. superficial bleeding. is that the temporal lobe? cause i'm guessing there's a hemorrhage there based on the location of the open head trauma."

 

there's a pause. "not bad, minatozaki. such a pity you specialised in cardio." she cracks a smile. trust nayeon to always anchor her. no matter the situation. "now when you drill, make sure not to press too hard. the bone there is a few millimeters thick, at most."

 

sana halts. stares at the surgical drill. she's essentially supposed to drill a hole into momo's skull, blindly, and not crush her brain. how many seconds would she have before momo dies, if she'd accidentally drilled through her brain tissue?

 

"sana, focus!" nayeon's shrill voice cuts into her thoughts and she blinks. "the girl doesn't have much time. drill, now."

 

the drill comes to life with a click. momo looks peaceful lying on the table. it tugs at sana's heartstrings and the fact that she would do anything, everything to save the girl - sends a new wave of courage through her. her hands are steady, calm, and she pushes the drill into the skin. 

 

all she has to go by with are her estimations. she falls back on her medical knowledge, muscle memory and nayeon's clear cut instructions. sana thinks this would be the peak of her medical career. is, actually, regardless of the outcome. 

 

"i think i see the clot," she says, switching off the drill. the apartment is silent again, save nayeon's loud whooping. something about her being a prodigy.

 

"okay, now get rid of the clot. use your fingers, whatever." there's bristling on the other end of the line. sana checks momo's pulse to find it more stable. there's breathing, too.

 

"i think she's stable now. vitals are normal." she sighs in relief. "thanks, nayeon."

 

"listen, the important part's done. good work, minatozaki." her voice has dropped to a whisper. "pack the wound and seal it. whatever this is, she has to come to the hospital. i'm not letting a potential open head trauma out of my sight. "

 

"what? no way," sana reaches for the gauze. "there's - she can't - "

 

"for fuck's sake, sana. you're a doctor. a surgeon." there it is. nayeon's guilt trip. "you of all people know head traumas are difficult. complex, actually. have a high risk of complications. we - _i_ need to monitor her. i don't care if your girl is some high profile person but she is still a person and she. needs. the. hospital."

 

the hospital. proper care, but at the risk of momo's identity. sana knows that nayeon's capable of more. flouting rules. their friendship was solely built on the fact that they both couldn't stand walking away when someone needed their help. it's satisfying, knowing that they managed to play into each other to get what they wanted. with mutual understanding. 

 

there's more rustling on the line, and a door slams. 

 

"nayeon?"

 

"fine. we won't register her. a helicopter's already on its way." she whispers. "get her to the roof, i'll see you in a bit. remember, jihyo _can't_ know."

 

"thank you," sana hangs up. starts packing the wound. exhales shakily. she's not even sure her heart is capable of taking anymore stress for the day. only now do the tears come, and she gives in. momentarily, to the pressure of almost losing momo. the stupid vigilante girl, who still manages to look so pretty with a partially exposed brain.

 

she was never a strong person. runs away from her problems. sure, she'd like to think being a surgeon has hardened her, but deep down knows that she's still the same little girl who cried when that stupid boy hit her in the sand-box. how was she supposed to be there for momo when she wasn't even capable of anchoring herself?

 

_be my sidekick,_ momo had said. one fine day, after sana had sewn her up. to be fair, she'd only agreed because she knew it would make momo smile. and it did.

 

there was no gritting her teeth through this one.

 

sana remembers when nayeon operated on her aunt. it was a sudden, code blue - there was barely any time to react. nothing could have changed the situation, something nayeon took months to realise, before she'd recovered from the shocking loss. sana remembers. remembers watching everything unfold from the gallery. remembers how nayeon refused to leave the OR, even after they'd moved the body to the morgue. remembers how one of the scrub nurses had to pry the scalpel out of her hands, remembers how jihyo had spent hours trying to coax her into going home, how nayeon had consumed all the alcohol in her room and cried herself to sleep.

 

if that had took nayeon months to recover, how many years would it take for sana to move on?

 

 

 

/ 

 

 

 

white isn't a good look on momo. it makes her look sickly, and out of place. it's clear the girl belongs in the night, fighting crime and protecting people. not lying motionless on a hospital bed. the bandage on her forehead reminds sana of her own earlier meltdown - evident from her puffy eyes.

 

"spill." nayeon is careful to keep the blinds closed. they're on the fifth floor. corner make-shift ward. there's a nurse standing guard outside whom sana is pretty sure nayeon bribed. also made every single scrub nurse in momo's surgery swore to keep mum. classified patient, calling in a favour. whatever floats her boat.

 

"you know the vigilante of new york city?" she starts. watches as nayeon's eyes flicker to the still-unconscious momo, before widening - 

 

"oh my god. you're dating the vigilante?"

 

sana tries to laugh. it sounds presumptuous. something inside of her cracks. 

 

"not anymore." she's thankful nayeon decided to skip the whole lecture on responsible decision making skills. like deciding to drill into a skull blind wasn't a responsible decision. "i patch her up, mostly. don't think i can watch her go headfirst into danger while saving other people, and come back dying."

 

the  _by my hands_ goes unsaid, but the look nayeon gives her tells sana she'd heard it either way.

 

"i'll keep her for another 24 hours after she wakes up. should be anytime, now." nayeon moves to squeeze her shoulder. settles for a hug, and then leaves. knows sana needs to be alone with momo, whatever they were.

 

(because in all the years of their friendship, sana has never swooned over anyone. period. 

 

this momo girl has got to be something.)

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

the pit is flooded. ER as well, and the OR board is so messy jihyo's not sure she's keeping track of the right things. there's been waves of patients from the aftermath of the earthquake, and everything is messy.

 

but amidst the chaos, jihyo realises two things:

 

one, that nayeon and sana are avoiding her. sure she's seen them around in between surgeries, and she swears everytime she makes to approach either of them, they disappear. also, from the brief glimpses of them - sana looked... broken, and nayeon looked like she'd saw a ghost.

 

two, that the nurses and residents are also avoiding her. more than usual. 

 

okay, she's not really sure about the second one because they always do, but jihyo swears the intern couldn't have scurried away any faster when she'd asked him about nayeon. or sana. 

 

she's not stupid, for fuck's sake. she's a surgeon. whatever it is, nayeon and sana are definitely hiding something. 

 

so she waits. stands at the corner of the hallway. eyes the very same intern, who looks around inconspicuously before grabbing some bandages, and disappears into the emergency stairwell.

 

jihyo follows. watches the intern race up the stairs to the... fifth floor? but there aren't any wards on the fifth floor. strange. narrows her eyes as he knocks softly at the door all the way to the left. which was supposedly, a closet. 

 

when nayeon opens the door and drags the intern in, jihyo knows she's right. 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

"im nayeon."

 

she jumps, hand flying to her chest. jihyo's staring at her, arms crossed. leaning against the restroom door. it's unforgiving, and jihyo has her boss face on. serious jihyo is hot jihyo, but also scary jihyo, and it's something nayeon could definitely do without.

 

"jesus, babe," she puts on her best smile. "you scared me there. don't you have surgery?" washes her hands. the silence that follows is tense. nayeon is sure jihyo hasn't blinked in the last ten seconds, and hates how it makes the other scrub nurses scurry away in fear. serious jihyo might also bring out angry jihyo, and being in the warpath is definitely not something they would want. 

 

"who's on the fifth floor?" jihyo asks, casual as ever. 

 

welp. secret's out. nayeon doesn't even understand why she'd tried to keep it from jihyo. it's her family's hospital, for fuck's sake.

 

nayeon takes a deep breath. meets her stare. 

 

"it's... sana's girlfriend. the one who came over that day? about the carpet?" she watches jihyo's eyes flicker with recognition.

 

"turns out she also happens to be the vigilante of new york city. crazy huh?" nayeon laughs. "she operated on her at home, jihyo. the girl did a craniotomy, blind, on her fucking girlfriend, after she'd helped save people at the earthquake earlier today. i talked her through it. the craniotomy, over the phone. we couldn't possibly leave her alone after that, with the possible complications. and since her identity's at stake, this was... the only way, i guess."

 

there's a pause. and then, "are you going to have to report this to the board?" 

 

jihyo blinks. still staring, and nayeon watches the gears in the other girl's head turn. she'd been counting on jihyo to not report this to the board, because it'd only bring attention to momo. momo, who'd woken up earlier in a panic, and tried to escape. but nayeon had reassured her that it'd be fine, that they were friends of sana's, and weren't going to register her as a legal patient. so the vigilante had eventually relented. 

 

but they'd broken the law. didn't follow protocol, and nayeon knows jihyo is a sucker for the rules.

 

"i won't. we'll keep it on the down low. for now, at least. you did well."

 

before she knows it, she's wrapped in a hug. the softest of hugs jihyo gives. only for her. it's immediate, the way her shoulders lighten - and nayeon melts into the hug. her gratitude goes unsaid, but she knows the other girl understands in the way jihyo kisses her softly. 

 

"how's sana?" jihyo murmurs, nuzzling into her jaw and nayeon sighs.

 

"not good," she says. "she's been avoiding me ever since. momo hasn't seen her either." nayeon adds. the vigilante has been asking for sana, but nayeon doesn't have the heart to tell her.

 

her pager beeps, as if on cue, and nayeon groans. reluctantly pulls away. she didn't even get to feel jihyo up. properly.

 

"i'll see you at home? we'll get chinese and i'll try to find sana," jihyo says. tugs on her blue scrubs as though she read her mind, and nayeon's met with a face full of her girlfriend. who kisses her soundly. with tongue. bites at her lower lip and squeezes her ass, before ushering her out.

 

nayeon knows she's blushing, but she can't be bothered when it's because of jihyo. 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

they don't find sana. no one does. other than momo, who finds a post-it note stuck to her hand when she wakes up that reads _i'm glad you're alive. sorry, i can't do this_ and what the hell is that supposed to mean? 

 

jihyo panics. because as much as they all know about sana's coping mechanisms (read: disappearing), the japanese girl has never disappeared off the face of the earth. for a total of two days. 

 

nayeon gives momo the summarised version: that sana's in shock, she should be back soon, and she'll talk when she's ready. the vigilante recovers quickly, to nayeon's delight because it means they can get momo out of the hospital as soon as possible, and lessen jihyo's burden of keeping a secret. they send her off quietly the next day, with momo being forced to pay them a visit after a few days in their attempt to cheer her up (because of sana's disappearance).

 

sana returns after three days. disheveled, eyes swollen, and spends the night crying in jihyo's arms. nayeon buys them tequila. 

 

momo doesn't visit.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

they don't talk about it. whatever it was. things are back to normal. or as least, that's what sana thinks. she alternates between living in the OR and her apartment, with friday movie nights and her two best friends.

 

she tries to forget the blood-stained study table in her room. jihyo'd covered it up with a tablecloth, and on busy days sana would forget it ever happened. but it doesn't change the way her ears pick up on the words 'vigilante'. nayeon and jihyo give her looks, but sana tells them (herself) that she's just keeping up with the news. 

 

it's when sana's on her way home after midnight that things change. 

 

she's focusing on putting one foot after the other, staring at the gravel of the road when a burly man blocks her path. blinking, she turns to move aside but stops when she feels something metallic pressed against her temple.

 

"where ya goin', princess?" he drawls. sana's blood runs cold. the one fucking day she chooses not to drive to the hospital. 

 

she gulps. this is it. karma's a bitch, indeed. "what do you want?" 

 

the man barks out a laugh, clicking the safety off the gun before pressing it into her forehead again. "what do i want? you, of course." he steps into her personal space and she flinches, back hitting the alley wall. 

 

fuck. she needed to get out of here. fast. it was the middle of the night - there was no one around to help her anyway. 

 

sana smiles up at the man, before spitting in his face. he howls in anger, hands moving to rub his face and she takes her opportunity. bolts, without looking back. turns left. the pounding of her feet echos throughout the night.

 

as fate would have it, she ran into a dead end. there were footsteps following, and sana's pretty sure she's signed her death. 

 

"bitch!" the man roars, and sana locks her body. tries not to show fear, because well, she had her dignity. "you dare spit on me?"

 

he raises a beefy arm and before she knows it, her breath is knocked out of her. literally. her right cheek stings and she bites down on her tongue, tasting blood.

 

"please, let me go." sana curls into herself defensively when the man moves to stand over her. the barrel of the gun is pressed into her cheek. where was the vigilante of new york city when she needed her?

 

right. she'd left momo in the hospital with a stupid post-it. she doesn't deserve momo. momo, and her selflessness. this is karma. karma's such a bitch.

 

"let you go? after you spat in my face? i don't think so," the man laughs. drags the gun down her cheek. along her neck, and sana squirms at the cold metal.

 

he slams the barrel into the side of her head, and sana falls to the ground.  _screams._ screams for momo.

 

momo.

 

was she dishonourable, if she'd still yearned for something she knew she didn't deserve?

 

but then the next blow doesn't land, and through her blurry vision she sees the burly man on the ground yelling out in pain. there's a familiar figure clad in a masked suit, kicking him. 

 

"how _dare_ you," the figure growls, and presses their heel into the man's cheek. he's crying out for mercy. sana sits up, and gets a proper look at her saviour - it's momo. relief slams into her like a tidal wave and she smiles. laughs, voice cracking. 

 

the vigilante turns to look at her, and sana swears she sees momo's eyes soften. it's like momo suddenly remembers sana's there, breaking through her haze of anger and settles for knocking the man out with a final blow to his head. twists his arm for good measure. in a flash she's by sana's side.

 

"hey, you." 

 

her mask is off, and she looks way better than the last time sana saw her. healthy, lively, brown eyes twinkling in the night sky. the wound on her head had healed up nicely with no scarring, and sana takes pride in knowing she'd done what she could. at least the girl was alive. 

 

she pushes forward. hugs momo. clings onto momo for dear life. the security sana gets from the other girl has tears streaming down her face. it's terrifying, because this is when she realises she can't do without momo.

 

"what took you so long?" she sobs into momo's neck, fingers digging into her suit. "i thought you weren't going to come anymore." fuck being honourable. there was no way she was leaving the other girl. again.

 

momo strokes her hair slowly. it's soothing. "i heard you screaming my name," she murmurs. tucks a lock of sana's hair behind her ear. kisses the purpling bruise at the side of sana's face. 

 

"i'm sorry i took so long," she whispers. rocks sana slowly, back and forth. "i... thought you didn't want to see me anymore." brushes the dirt from her arms. then tightens her arms around sana. "i'm always going to be here, okay?"  

 

momo's nosing at her, fingers curling below her jaw. maybe it's the tears, maybe its the near death experience but the affection in all of the other girl's actions makes sana think that she might actually, be deserving of momo. and so she kisses momo, blinking away the tears.  

 

it's soft, comforting. she pours her unspoken apologies into the kiss, and _knows_ that momo understands. there's nibbles and licks that make her toes tingle, and when they pull apart it's all sana can think about.

 

they sit in silence. for awhile. sana wants to go home. doesn't want to think about what would happen if momo had appeared a second later. or worse, not at all. also wants to kiss momo. again.

 

"can you bring me home?" she croaks. wipes her snot on her sleeve. sana knew she was an ugly crier. still is. but she's way too exhausted to give a shit, and by the look on momo's face sana knows it was exactly what the other girl was thinking.  

 

"oh shut up," she hits momo's shoulder. "just bring me home already." to which momo laughs, eyes disappearing into a smile that sana missed seeing. the smile that she'd once give anything to see, and would still do so. 

 

momo's arms wrap around her waist. "hang on tight, princess." it's said in japanese this time, and sana has never felt more at home.

 

they fly. 

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

mondays might not be so bad after all, when you wake up to the girl you love. sleeping, with her mouth hanging open. it's adorable. she settles for kissing momo's nose, before moving to get up. 

 

sana pries momo's hands away from her. tries not to wake the vigilante girl. it works - or rather, momo sleeps like the dead. this is what she learns eventually. 

 

nayeon and jihyo are lounging on the couch, nayeon's head in jihyo's lap. it's unusual, because neither of them are early birds, especially on a day off. sleep was precious. they were definitely not up because of sex, given the lack of hickeys on either of them - and they both look like they could use a little sleep.

 

she's not even sure why she's up, other than the fact that she needed to pee.

 

"not sleeping?" 

 

nayeon glares. like actually, glares. daggers. sana is two parts confused, one part hurt. did she do something again?

 

"congratulations," offers jihyo. "so everything's fine with you and momo?" she grins, onyx eyes dancing with excitement despite the bags underneath.

 

"fine? it's more than fine, jihyo. just look at her neck - " nayeon snaps. the rest of her sentence is muffled by jihyo's palm against her mouth. 

 

sana frowns. "my neck?" 

 

she walks over to the full-length mirror beside the door. and gasps. then blushes. all the way to her neck.

 

" -'s blushing at the hickeys on her own neck." nayeon grumbles. jihyo gives up trying to silence her. "at least she has the decency to be embarrassed at herself for keeping other people up with her sex-capades." 

 

dear god. sana buries her face in her hands. then gets over the embarrassment because she remembers that this is her apartment, and there was no way she was going to be slut-shamed in her own. apartment.

 

she squeezes herself between the two of them on the couch. take turns to look them in the eye. jihyo's already smiling. nayeon is apprehensive, but the corner of her lips is turned up ever so slighly sana knows she's trying not to laugh. 

 

sana breaks into the widest grin ever.

 

"i have a girlfriend!" she squeals. 

 

nayeon rolls her eyes.


End file.
